228 SPENCER FULLERTON BAIRD 



made fun. The unpaved streets were too wide to be 

 improved from the tax receipts of an only moderately 

 well-to-do population. The City Directory was a thin 

 pamphlet. There was a slave pen, and here and there 

 rows of houses (some still standing) with low attics where 

 the slaves were locked in, after a certain hour in the 

 evening. 



The abundant trees of the present had not been 

 planted, though there were a few elms on "The Avenue." 

 The summer sun heated the rough brick sidewalks to 

 the baking point, and this warmth was given off liberally 

 until midnight or later. Folks gathered in chairs on the 

 sidewalks in the evenings; or visited between the groups 

 seated on the verandahs of better-class houses. 



The less frequented streets afforded an abundant 

 crop of grass, which was utilized by wandering domestic 

 animals. 



It was all primitive, village-like, and yet not without 

 charm. The suburb of Georgetown to the west across 

 Rock Creek older than Washington and more aristo- 

 cratic, with narrow and closely built up streets and old- 

 fashioned mansions with lawns and gardens was con- 

 nected with the capital city by a line of rumbling 

 omnibuses. 



The Smithsonian building was on the Mall in south- 

 west Washington, known as the "Island," because sepa- 

 rated by the shallow and odoriferous James Creek canal 

 from the main part of the town. The Mall had been laid 

 out by A. J. Downing, with fine taste, and was full of 

 shrubbery, grass and trees, but was little cared for, so 

 that in it birds and small beasts found haven. 



The building was on the south side, facing north; not 

 then quite completed. It was approached by paths and 



